


The Best Laid Plans

by orphan_account



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Injury, M/M, Whump, concussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When a mission goes awry, Barry is forced to care for a concussed Hal.





	The Best Laid Plans

“Hal, I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.” Barry’s brows furrowed as he watched Hal’s eyes track his finger, normally alert hazel eyes cloudy and sluggish.

“I’m fine, Barr.” Hal batted Barry’s hand away and moved to stand up from the cold concrete floor, but sat down heavily as the room spun circles around him. “I’m just tired, is all.”

Barry sighed in frustration. “Now is not the time to tough out a concussion,” he admonished. “When we get out, you’re going straight to the medbay.”

“Speaking of,” Hal added, “How exactly are we planning on doing that? Can you phase through the bars?”

Barry shook his head. “They’ve got power dampeners installed in them. I can barely feel my speed right now.” He didn’t mention how vulnerable it made him feel. Without the warm glow of the Speedforce blossoming beneath his breastbone, Barry felt completely helpless.

“My ring’s dead, too.” Hal propped himself up against the wall, leaning back on the concrete with a groan. Barry winced at the large scorch mark on Hal’s side, the flesh beneath raw and burned.

“Can I-?”

Hal lifted his arm in wordless permission, his face scrunched up with pain as the movement tugged on his wound. Barry knelt next to him, hands ghosting over Hal’s side. He peeled back the charred edges of Hal’s tshirt, wincing as he tried not to destroy the skin.

“It’s at least second degree,” he observed. “Looks electrical. It’ll heal, though.” However, Barry’s gut churned unpleasantly at Hal’s injuries, and he swallowed hard.

“Here.” Hal ripped a strip off his tshirt as an impromptu bandage, but Barry held up a hand to stop him.

“No, I want to check your head first.” Barry let his fingers gently probe around Hal’s temple, hesitating when the pilot hissed in pain. His fingers came back sticky with half-congealed blood, and Barry frowned at the red stain.

“Ok, we gotta bandage that up.” Barry wrapped the tshirt around Hal’s head, and tucked the end in the back. He hesitated again, carefully smoothing the brown waves of Hal’s hair out of the way as he focused on his job. When his eyes flicked back to Hal’s own, he noticed how close their faces had gotten. Barry pulled back in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing beneath his mask.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“What, take the bullet? Laser? Whatever?” Hal half-shrugged, an arm wrapped around his torso. “That’s what being part of the League is about. We watch each other’s backs.”

“I could’ve phased through it,” Barry protested. “It wouldn’t have hurt me.”

Hal looked up from where he was examining the tattered remains of his tshirt. “I didn’t want to take that chance.”

Even though it was fogged with pain and confusion, Barry could still feel Hal’s gaze lingering on him, but he buried any lingering feelings it might stir and breathed out hard.

“Any ideas?” Barry crawled to Hal’s side and let his head tip back until it made contact with the wall, mimicking Hal’s posture.

Hal closed his eyes with a sigh. “How did we get here?” He asked after a moment.

“Hal, you can’t remember?” Concern tightened Barry’s voice.

“No, I remember getting to Vlatava,” Hal backtracked. “I mean how did we get in the cell?”

“Well,” Barry thought out loud, “After you took the hit for me, you hit your head and got knocked out. I moved to check on you, and they nailed me with a speed-dampening dart. They took us below ground and threw us in here.”

“How does the door work?”

Barry pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his own injuries sent spikes of pain through his muscles. “It looks like the bars slide up from the ground,” he observed. “I’d guess they connect at the top and bottom to complete the circuit.”

“English, Barry.”

Barry frowned, and cast a glance at Hal. He was by no means a scientist, but the explanation should’ve made sense to Hal. This definitely wasn’t a good sign.

“The bars are connecting to something to dampen our powers,” he explained. “We break the connection, we can get out of here.”

“Got any juice left?” Hal looked up at Barry, his brow still tight with pain.

Barry stared down at his hands, focusing hard as he tried to tap into the Speedforce. For a split second, he could feel it return, but as quickly as it came, it vanished.

“Hardly any.”

Hal squinted at the concrete surrounding them. “Think you can get through that if you just do your hands?”

“I can try. But I’ve never been a human jackhammer before. I don’t know if I can hold up.” Barry inhaled and exhaled, then turned to Hal. He wasn’t lying – he had no idea if his healing could keep up with the damage concrete would do to his fingers. He didn’t even know if he could maintain the momentum long enough to even make a dent. But Hal was depending on him, so he had to try.

“I can do it.” Hal gave him a weak smile, and Barry’s resolve spread through him like fire. Positioning himself in the corner for support, Barry pointed his fingers at the junction of bar and concrete and braced it with his other hand. He closed his eyes and dug deep, trying to summon every ounce of determination he had. Barry’s hand twitched, then began to vibrate steadily, and with a grunt, he pressed his fingertips against the concrete.

Almost instantly, Barry felt the skin on his fingertips start to shred as his gloves were torn away, his fingernails wearing down and cracking against the concrete. But he pressed harder, teeth clenched as he struggled to force his way through.

A small flake of concrete drifted lazily through the air, followed by another, then another. Hal reached out his hand to try and catch them, like a small child attempting to catch snowflakes. Barry noted with worry that he was missing most of them. Suddenly, he lost his connection to the Speedforce, and his hand stilled. Panting, Barry leaned against the wall, clutching at his battered hand. Even though his body had tried to heal it, it was still bloodied and shredded.

Hal’s eyes widened at Barry’s injury, and he reached out a hand in concern. “Barr, it’s ok, we’ll find another way-“

“No,” Barry forced out between gritted teeth. “I can do this.” He placed his uninjured hand against the chips he had made, and closed his eyes in search of the Speedforce. When he coaxed it back, it was even more fleeting than last time, and Barry could only jackhammer for a few seconds before he lost it again. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and he was breathing hard, but a sizeable crack had appeared in the concrete underneath the dust and blood. Barry could hear it pattering to the floor, forming small drops of paste as it mixed with the pulverized concrete.

“Doing ok, Hal?” He panted.

“Peachy,” slurred Hal. Barry knelt at his side with concern, noting how dazed the pilot seemed.

“Hal, are you feeling tired?”

Hal nodded slowly, eyes unfocused. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Hal, I need you to stay awake for me, ok?” Barry grabbed Hal’s head in his hands, not caring how they stung with pain. “Can you do that for me, buddy?”

“Sure.” But Hal’s head was already lolling back against the concrete. “Sure, ok, Barry.”

Barry’s stomach clenched with fear, and bile rose in his throat. His medical skills were limited, but he knew that Hal was definitely in some sort of medical danger right now. If he fell asleep, there was no way to know if he would wake up again.

“Just – talk to me,” he pleaded desperately. “Anything and everything. Whatever you want, talk away.”

Hal chuckled weakly. “Now I know ‘m going crazy,” he muttered. “Normally you’re asking me to shut up.”

Barry let out a small huff of amusement. Even bruised and concussed, Hal still had to get in a snarky retort.

“Tell me about something,” he begged. “Tell me about space.”

And so Hal talked. He talked about Oa and his fellow Lanterns, about planets Barry couldn’t even dream existed, about how he got fined for making “Top Gun” jokes in flight school. Eventually, Hal’s words drifted into the background as Barry concentrated on finding the remnants of the Speedforce, working whenever he could to chip away at the concrete.

Whether they worked for minutes or hours, Barry couldn’t say, but suddenly Hal’s voice made him stop.

“You’re my best friend,” Hal said ponderingly. “Y’know, they say you should marry your best friend if you really, really want to be happy.”

“Since when did you take relationship advice?” Barry retorted, but he couldn’t hide how quickly his pulse had jumped at Hal’s statement.

“Since Carol told me to pull my head out of my ass and start taking relationships seriously.”

“Is that so?” Barry asked innocently.

Hal nodded. “Yeah. And I would, too.”

Barry completely abandoned his jackhammering and stared at Hal, heart in his mouth.

“You would what?”

“Take you seriously. ‘Cause I like you, Barr. A lot. You’re my best friend, and it would be mean otherwise. I wouldn’t even flirt, I swear.”

“I don’t think that anything in the universe could stop you from flirting.” Barry smiled down at his friend, but his pulse was still racing. “Do you really like me?”

Hal frowned at Barry. “What kind of stupid question is that? I took a laser for you.”

Sighing, Barry squatted down to Hal’s level so that the two were facing each other. “Hal,” he said frankly. “You’re concussed. You probably don’t know what you’re saying.” He swallowed hard as Hal’s face dropped.

“Ok, but consider.” Hal held up a finger. “If I was concussed, could I do this?” He reached out a hand towards Barry’s face and ran his fingers across Barry’s cheek.

“Or this?” His other hand moved along Barry’s temple as Barry froze with indecision, his breath coming quicker.

“Or _this_?” Hal finally closed the gap between them, a thumb caressing Barry’s cheekbone as he tilted his head and brought Barry’s mouth against his. Barry pulled back instinctively, eyes wide as he stared at Hal in shock.

“Oh. Oh, shit.” Regret instantly filled Hal’s eyes as he stared at Barry. “Barry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have – I didn’t know you were-“

Barry shook his head. “No, Hal, it’s not that. It’s just that – you’re bleeding!”

Hal brought a hand to his head as a fresh trickle of blood made its way down his cheekbone. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped over.

“Hal? _Hal?!_ ” Barry grabbed Hal by the shoulders, then patted his cheek. “Hal, wake up!” But Hal had slipped into unconsciousness once more.

“Oh, God. Oh, godogodogod-“ Barry stood up and turned a half-circle in frustration, bringing his hands to his head. He had to get Hal out of here, and fast. Forcing his eyes shut, Barry reached out for the Speedforce one last time, grabbing ahold of one of its bright tendrils with all his might. He placed his hands to the wall, and with a mighty cry, channeled all of his energy into vibrating his hands. The concrete rumbled, then shattered into a hundred chunks, covering Barry in white dust. He coughed and waved his hands to clear the air, revealing a small space where the bar connected with a socket. With a grunt, Barry pulled out the wires connecting to the bars, not caring as sparks of electricity rained down on him. A faint hum signified the bars had powered down, and like a firework, the Speedforce returned to Barry in full.

Lightning flickered through Barry’s eyes as he drew in a deep breath, his hands repairing torn skin and shredded nail as his powers rushed back. Turning around, Barry saw a faint green glow wash over Hal, replacing his tshirt and jeans with the Green Lantern uniform. However, Hal did not wake up.

Lifting Hal in a fireman’s carry, Barry exhaled hard before phasing through the bars and dashing through the cell block. Any guards that noticed were left behind too quickly for them to act as Barry ran as fast as he could, teeth clenched against the screaming of his muscles. They were out of the castle and halfway across Vlatava in under a minute, at the nearest boom tube in under five. However, every minute felt like an eternity as Barry listened to Hal’s tortuously slow breaths in his ear, his best friend slipping away from him as he ran.

The medbay was empty when Barry arrived, and he gently lay Hal down on an empty bed. Batman arrived in a matter of seconds, quickly but efficiently hooking Hal up to a pulse monitor and unwrapping Barry’s makeshift bandage.

“We were wondering what was taking you so long,” he said simply as he shone a penlight at Hal’s eyes. “What happened?”

“Concussion, at least,” Barry said breathlessly. “He took a hit from some kind of energy weapon in the side. Probably just surface damage to the tissue, but I don’t know what else it did to him.”

“Pulse is weak steady,” Batman noted. “He’s lost a nontrivial amount of blood. How long has he been unconscious?”

“Ten minutes, maybe? He was breathing well when I carried him, but I don’t-“ Barry hovered uselessly over Hal, hands clenching and unclenching.

“You need to rest.” Batman’s assessment was curt. “You’ve expended a lot of energy, and you’re still not healed yet.”

Barry looked down in surprise. Batman was right – his fingers were still a mess, covered in dried blood and flecks of skin as the nerve endings regrew. Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight on his shoulder, and looked up. Batman had placed a hand on his shoulder, and was steering him towards the adjacent bed.

“Rest,” he said firmly. “I’ll clean out your fingers. We won’t know more about Hal’s condition until he wakes up, but I think it’ll take more than a concussion to keep him down.”

True to Batman’s assessment, Barry could feel his eyelids drooping. He hadn’t run that hard in a long time, and his constant healing and re-injury had taken its toll.

“Tell me when he wakes up,” Barry begged as he slumped into a nearby chair. “Please.” The last thing Barry saw before he drifted off was Batman nodding, before he began hooking Hal up to an IV.

When Barry awoke not too long later, Hal was still asleep, but resting far easier. A little color had returned to his cheeks, and his brow was no longer furrowed with pain. Barry let out a huge sigh of relief, all his anxiety rushing out along with his breath. Hal was safe – nothing else mattered. Looking down, he saw clean bandages on his fingers, felt the pull of scabs forming as he flexed them. Another hour, and they should be back to normal.

But a thought still niggled at the back of Barry’s mind: Hal’s kiss. Concussed or not, it didn’t change that it had happened, and Hal had been the one to initiate it. If he was being honest with himself, he’d always had a bit of a crush on Hal, but he’d done his best to brush it off as being star-struck by him and the rest of the League. Hal was always a ladies’ man, and while he would flirt with pretty much anyone, Barry had never taken it seriously.

As if sensing Barry’s churning thoughts, Hal began to stir, his brow furrowing slightly. He blinked several times and made a small noise of pain as he tried to sit up. “What-“

“Hal! Don’t move.” Barry pressed gently on Hal’s chest, trying to force him to lie back down. “It’s ok, it’s ok. We’re in the Watchtower medbay.”

Hal grabbed at Barry’s hands. “Your fingers-“

“They’re healing,” Barry reassured him, holding them up as proof. “Bats says they’ll be fine as long as they stay clean.”

But Hal wouldn’t let go of Barry’s fingers, wrapping his hand around Barry’s. He could feel the heat of Hal’s palm radiating through the bandages, almost healing in its warmth. “Barry-“

Barry swallowed hard. “Hal – we should probably talk.”

This time, the frown that darkened Hal’s face had nothing to do with pain.

“I – I don’t know how much you remember, in the cell,” Barry stammered. “But, you, um, you-“

“I kissed you,” Hal completed for him, his face turning unreadable. “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“No! It’s just-“ Barry made a frustrated noise and let his head drop for a moment. “Oh, screw it.” He leaned forward, placing his forearm next to Hal’s head while his other hand rested on Hal’s shoulder. Barry hesitated for a split second, time slowing down as he watched Hal to see if he’d made the right judgement. Hal still looked slightly loopy, but there was tenderness in his eyes and the barest hint of a smile twitching at one corner of his mouth. Letting time flow normally again, Barry moved forward in a sweet, almost chaste kiss. Hal moved his hand towards Barry’s cheek, but made a small noise of pain and let it drop.

Immediately, Barry pulled backwards, his concern evident as he searched Hal’s face for distress. However, the pilot seemed unfazed, instead moving his hand back to Barry’s. “Okay then.” He grinned lopsidedly, and Barry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” he echoed, and sat back down in the chair beside Hal’s bed. However, Hal didn’t let go of Barry’s fingers, clutching them over his heart. Barry could feel the steady _thump-thump_ and smiled, suddenly self-conscious and blushing. Repetitively brushing his thumb over Barry’s knuckles, Hal leaned back into the pillow, his eyes starting to close.

“Stay,” he said, almost too quiet for Barry to hear. Barry watched Hal’s eyelids flutter, then eventually shut.

“Always,” he replied, but Hal was already asleep.

 


End file.
